Classics Books

CHAPTER I MY LIFE AS A CHILD I believe that a benevolent Fate has had watch over me. Some have called it luck; some have spoken of the hard work and the many years of study; others have cited my career as an instance of American pluck and perseverance. But deep down in my heart I feel much has been directed by Fate. This God-sent gift of song was bestowed upon me for some purpose, I know not what. It... more...

Perhaps this story does not belong with my other tales of the Special Patrol Service. And yet, there is, or should be, a report somewhere in the musty archives of the Service, covering the incident. Not accurately, and not in detail. Among a great mass of old records which I was browsing through the other day, I happened across that report; it occupied exactly three lines in the log-book of the Ertak:... more...

CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY. I think that is the way my father would begin. My name is Ethelwyn Percivale, and used to be Ethelwyn Walton. I always put the Walton in between when I write to my father; for I think it is quite enough to have to leave father and mother behind for a husband, without leaving their name behind you also. I am fond of lumber-rooms, and in some houses consider them far the most... more...

CHAPTER I ENDURANCE AND ADVENTURE: THE VOYAGE AND LANDING "So they left ye goodly and pleasante citie, which had been ther resting-place near 12 years; but they knew they were pilgrimes, & looked not much on those things, but lift up their eyes to ye heavens, their dearest cuntrie, and quieted their spirits." —Bradford's History of Plymouth Plantations. Chap. VII. December weather in... more...

When Walter left his uncle, he hurried, scarcely conscious of his steps, towards his favourite haunt by the water-side. From a child, he had singled out that scene as the witness of his early sorrows or boyish schemes; and still, the solitude of the place cherished the habit of his boyhood. Long had he, unknown to himself, nourished an attachment to his beautiful cousin; nor did he awaken to the secret... more...

CHAPTER I PROSPER LE GAI RIDES OUT My story will take you into times and spaces alike rude and uncivil. Blood will be spilt, virgins suffer distresses; the horn will sound through woodland glades; dogs, wolves, deer, and men, Beauty and the Beasts, will tumble each other, seeking life or death with their proper tools. There should be mad work, not devoid of entertainment. When you read the word... more...

CHAPTER I. CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH OF THE SAINTLY CURÉ. JEAN Baptist Marie Vianney, afterwards to become famous as the curé of Ars, was born May 8th, 1786, at Dardilly, in the South of France, not far from the City of Lyons, and was the fourth child of humble country folks. His father, Mathieu Vianney, and his mother, Marie Beluse, possessed some land adjoining their simple dwelling. Despite the fact... more...

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A HAPPY HOUR'S COMMAND Down in the Woods, July 2d, 1882.-If I do it at all I must delay no longer. Incongruous and full of skips and jumps as is that huddle of diary-jottings, war-memoranda of 1862-'65, Nature-notes of 1877-'81, with Western and Canadian observations afterwards, all bundled up and tied by a big string, the resolution and indeed mandate comes to me this day, this... more...

MiceI seethe broken bodies of women and men,Temples of God ruined; I see the clawsOf sinister Fate, from the reach of whose feline pawsNever are safe the bodies of women and men.Almighty Cat, it sits on the Throne of the World,With paw outstretched, grinning at us, the mice,Who play our trivial games of virtue and vice,And pray—to That which sits on the Throne of the World!From our beginning till all... more...